Humans 1x1 'Episode 1': Nobody's Human

Humans 1x1 is an ambitious, competent robots vs. humans pilot with an intriguing message, even if it is somewhat uneven.

One of the most difficult tasks burdening every pilot is adequately introducing the story's premise in a satisfyingly dramatic way. This goes on top having to introduce the characters, plot, setting, tone, etc. A lot of stuff. It's a big job, especially for something that doesn't already have a fanbase (I hear that's the only thing MTV's Scream has going for it). But Channel 4/AMC's new sci-fi drama Humans seems to at least partially accomplish all this, and finishes its first hour still standing as a relatively competent take on the artificial intelligence conversation, if albeit standing somewhat askew.

This is because the pilot explores the concept of androids in our daily lives in some intriguing, and possibly even fresh, ways. The biggest fear with any story tackling the subject of robots/androids is that it'll just recycle the old and rotten statement that they're really just like us after all, just as human. It's a trope I was done with as soon as I realized Battlestar Galactica was the greatest thing- I mean, my favorite thing- since the discovery of cheese. But Humans may just be saying something slightly different: it's not that the androids are just as human as us, but rather we're getting just as cold and robotic as them, and having technology with increased sentience may just bring this frightening fact to the fore and boil over into something drastic. It's nice considering the idea that a show called 'Humans' may really about nobody being human at all.

We open in a warehouse filled with rows of 'synths,' the androids. On first glance, the synths appear as the picturesque embodiment of what we're told is the apex of human physique, in its most objectifying form. But, seeing them all stacked up like this, one wonders if the show is reflecting this extreme image of the human body back at us and asking if this kind of 'idealyc' look actually makes us less human, because we're less distinct in this homogenous image. I have the itch it was taking a pot shot at the world's very narrow beauty standards. And from there we move to the obvious discourse about all our gadgets leading to an ever-growing disconnect. Enter Joe (Tom Goodma-Hill), the patriarch of the Hawkins family, juggling cooking food and taking a business call and missing his wife's call while she's on her own business trip. Meanwhile his son is ignoring the Red Hot Chili Peppers' sound advice and watching tv (much as I am) and his daughter, Mats (Lucy Carless) is on her phone/tablet. And Laura (Katherine Parkinson), Joe's wife, is sitting in a stark dimly lit hotel room, going through some obvious existential despondency, as you do, which she covers up in a lying text claiming to be at work and she will try to talk with Joe the next day. She's going through a crisis, and she fails to communicate that very raw emotion with her spouse, using the next coldest form of communication behind tweeting it to him. It's not an inherently original critique on our 21st century tech obsession by any stretch, but it provides a plausible platform on which to begin the show's main plot.

With Laura always away working court cases as a lawyer, Joe needs help holding the fort. So he buys himself a nice nanny-synth, without of course telling Laura, because that would undermine the message the show is going for. He gets Anita (played by the solid Gemma Chan), who wastes no time staking her claim in the family by taking their surname unbidden. She says 'My name is Anita Hawkins' with all the calm bravado of merely stating a fact and expecting the family to acknowledge it. And to her credit, Gemma Chan doesn't waste any time proving her craft and ownership of the role, to a point that I suspect she could even carry the entire show if she had to. Chan's talent is a necessity in playing Anita, because the nanny-bot is clearly the most interesting character on the show, maintaining a fine nuance where we're left wondering both what she's up to and what she'll do next. It was tension that clung to Chan magnetic presence every moment she was on screen, and worked surprisingly well, up until the very last scene (I'll get to that later).

Our introduction to Anita is an overall cliche look at robots, almost to a point that I wouldn't have bat an eye if she'd actually started dancing the robot. She's obedient and non-reactive to the little girl, Sophie (Pixie Davies), who quickly holds her hand and calls her 'cool.' Just another docile techno-tool around the house. We need this to be our initial image of Anita, so that it makes it that much more jarring when we go back five weeks earlier and see her in the unconstrained setting of a forest with three other synths and a human, Leo (Colin Morgan). Leo talks to these synths straight, just like they're people, his brethren, showing his compassion and bond with them immediately. The other synths reveal their unhinged autonomy. Max (Ivanno Jeremiah) smiles when he reports having a higher battery percentage than the others, Niska (Emily Berrington) readies a weapon at the slightest sound, the feral look of a killer etched on her face, and Fred (Sope Dirisu) is overtly weary, insecure. And then we see Anita (who was called 'Mia' then) eskimo kissing Leo as they part ways, just before all the synths sans Max get captured. This moment is crucial, because it establishes the fact that the docile Anita we're watching with the Hawkins in not simply in factory setting, not simply another robot who's going to learn to think and act for herself, not going to learn emotion. She's already sentient, she's already aware, she already loves. Which means her subservient actions as the nanny-bot are all an act, a calculated facade to veil a hidden agenda. She's up to something. Which makes her readily fascinating and unpredictable. (When Laura tried to belittle Anita by saying 'You're just a stupid machine, aren't you?' And Anita shoots back a gaze that could pierce bone marrow and calmly replies 'Yes, Laura,' with all the perfect subtly and veiled mocking that answer needs... that was one of the more chilling moments I've seen on television in a while.)

Evidence of Anita's layered shadiness is furthered by, given her freewill, she doesn't just run back to Leo, despite the fact that she could easily leave the house and find him. Sure the Hawkins would alert the special robot police (that's a thing), but Anita's already proven she's resourceful and she can hide. No, she's actively not getting in touch with Leo, whilst he runs around lovestruck, trying to find her (he's looking for the others, too, but he openly admits he loves 'Mia'). And I'm confident he will, because Colin Morgan approaches the role of Leo as a streetwise vagabond on edge, resourceful and with a computer-chip on his shoulder. We don't know why he's helping the sentient synths, but we know his care for them is genuine. He's Max's caretaker, Niska's voice of reason, Fred's reassuring brother, and Anita's love. And even though he's acting solely on his heart, he's probably the most rational-thinking person on the show, synthetic or organic. He's the one who has to calm down reactive Niska, who 'turned on' her pain and hasn't looked back, claiming as a right of her existence. His check on her won't last, and she's gonna explode. But Leo's doing the best he can, even when the best is simply accepting that he won't be able to free Fred yet, who got shipped off to work in a greenhouse picking vegetables. It's another hint to the apparent belief system of the show, showing a sort of vegetable picking assembly line where the humans in charge barely acknowledge the synths at all, branding them with numbers, as if to say that this is what we do to the people working these jobs.

If the show is arguing that we as a society are already un-human, or near it, it offers hope in the form of an aging doctor, Millican (William Hurt), and his bond with his own personal synth. I'd be satisfied with the mere presence of William Hurt. He's just one of those professionals who holds you to the screen regardless of role. But George Millican, independent of the actor, is the heartstring of the show. I'm sure he's going to pulled into the main plot at some point, but for now the tragic story of a man who can see the end of his life much more than the memories of his loved ones is more than enough. Millican has a nurse-synth, Odi (Will Tudor), who does all the remembering for Millican. Odi is the child Millican never had (or fills the role of one he lost), the remnant of the life he shared with his late wife, the only person left that he loves. Except Odi still isn't a person, not matter how hard Millican wishes. He's still a glitching form of life, suffering the robot's edition of dementia. His own mechanical malfunctions when he accidentally slaps someone is further reminder that Leo's synths are markedly different. The show needs us to remember that the machines are still machines. When Fred gets knocked out with a stun gun while trying to escape his vegetable picking job, the other synths simply observe the scene, probably collecting data on the event and quantifying it, and return to work. They're just shells, 'imitations' of life, as Fred's baddy human boss puts it. If those were people, they'd react, they'd help their brother, or at least react to it. They'd still tap into that one facet of humanity in them, no matter how hard their bosses would try to take their humanity away. Most of the synths can't do that. It's still 'lacking' in their programming. Odi is still more synth than human. Millican can't change that. The love he feels to Odi is very real, and very human. But Odi cannot reciprocate. Odi is still only a tool. Almost all the synths are still tools.

This fact contextualizes the inciting incident of the show. Synth's have obviously been around for quite awhile. Yet still people were becoming further detached, because the synths around them couldn't remind them what it was like to be human with the threat of sentience. The emergence of Leo's synths, who will undoubtedly become more and more public, will bring humanity's identity crisis to the fore. And that crisis, while still not wholly original, is a nice twist in the sci-fi android storytelling. They're not becoming more like us, as is the trope in most android/AI stories. We're becoming more like them. And when that becomes more apparent, people and synths alike will do something drastic. The most 'human' characters, Leo and Anita, are driven by love. Whereas Laura is driven by pride and jealousy, Mats by technophobia, and Joe by his being burnt out (Also his penis). These elements are both reflections of humanity's flaws and the dangers of becoming 'cold' or detached. And, for now at least, Humans is doing well to grip us to that tense anticipation. The speech at the end of the show was irksome, because it basically TOLD me everything I had been reading in the subtext, it seemed to tarnish the good faith the show had established with me that it would respect the intelligence of its viewers. And Anita's last action of stealing Sophie away into the night was way too contrived, and went against all the episode's previous efforts to make her fascinating, unpredictable, and believable. But the this pilot does just enough to keep me going with it. The potential is there, and possibly abundant. We can't say that about a lot of pilots.

Grade: B

When I got sidetracked

-The despondency that comes with advanced technology for newer generations was another gripping topic to touch on. In one line, 'My best isn't good enough,' Mats captures the fears of all kids. No matter how hard we work to be great at something, machines will probably be made to do it better. That fear is shared by many. What hope is there in that for our children. Why even bother trying? We're replacing them before they're even born. I really hope the show continues to explore this thought.

-I'm not gonna talk about the Synth Cop's domestic subplot, where his wife is being rehabilitated from an accident by a hot boytoy synth. One thread too many.

-Katherine Parkinson just wasn't made for the 21st Century. First she couldn't figure out computers in the IT department of Reynholm Industries. And now she can't even come home without having to face off with some indecipherable nanny-bot. Or figure out a modern oven. Or texting. Maybe The IT Crowd of Moss and Roy wasn't so bad after all (PLEASE BRING IT CROWD BACK!!!... NO?!!!... okay).

-When the corporate human baddies talked about 'the Signularity' and technology surpassing humans in evolution, I knew what the solution was. QUICK!!! GO GET THE REAPERS!!!!#MassEffectLogic

#review #Humans #TV